


In the Land of Bones and Ash

by stumblinginthestars



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, Purgatory, i just really wish we had gotten more purgatory ok, purgaytory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 06:53:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4819424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stumblinginthestars/pseuds/stumblinginthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened during the year in purgatory? Does it feel as long as hell or does time warp and bend differently? What is the land of monsters like and who can Dean trust in his search for Castiel?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Land of Bones and Ash

 

                “Mornin’ sunshine,” Benny’s thick drawl wakes Dean from his unfit sleep. “We best be getting’ a move on.”

                Dean rolls onto his back with a sigh, brushing leaves from his hair before grabbing his machete and pushing himself to his feet. His back aches and his limbs feel like lead. It’s been awhile since he’s slept well. Obviously, purgatory isn’t exactly a TempurPedic commercial. He trudges after Benny, feeling blisters forming on his heels atop of old blisters. Everything is sore and bruised and bloodied. He wants to scream because it’s been months— _months? Years?_ —since he arrived in this place. Months since Castiel disappeared.

                “C’mon, Dean, pick up the pace.” Benny says in a hushed whisper, startling Dean from his reverie.

                Dean focuses his eyes on the present and sees that Benny is a few yards ahead of him. He hustles to catch up as the vamp waits, only the sound of the leaves under his feet break the silence. That makes him suddenly very wary. The leaves crunching are the only sound. No wind, no wild, primal screams, nothing else. He looks at Benny and sees that same caginess in his companion’s eyes before the southerner spins on his heel and begins marching again. After another mile, the bone-chilling silence is ripped in half by a guttural roar. Dean and Benny instantly break into a sprint, carried by fear pounding through their veins.

                Dean is falling behind. He tries to keep up with Benny, but he’s not an immortal vampire or some creature from the black lagoon. He’s human and he’s more sleep-deprived than usual and he’s bone-weary and hungry and fading fast. He feels the pounding of something monstrous coming up behind him fast and hears Benny’s shouts to “speed up” ahead. He squeezes his eyes shut, letting out a scream of complete frustration and terror and squeezes the last bit of adrenaline out of his body, propelling himself forwards with clumsy, elongated strides. He sees that Benny isn’t waiting for him—not that Dean really blames him; it’s survival of the fittest and they aren’t exactly besties—and is a quarter mile ahead. He can hear the snarls from whatever is behind him, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look. Another roar sounds, assailing Dean’s eardrums and he feels himself wearing down, his footfalls become uncoordinated and he bites back another scream.         

                He looks ahead to where Benny is and sees that he has begun scaling a tree only ten yards away and is shouting, “Dean! Move yer ass! Get up here _now_!”

                Dean chances a look behind him and his breath catches in his throat. It’s a werewolf, but it’s not like any Dean has ever seen before—a werewolf must’ve bitten Andre the Giant because it is gargantuan, casting a shadow over everything around. In this split second of looking back, Dean trips and falls onto the hard earth, scraping his hands and face on the rocky soil and thorny underbrush. He grips his weapon tightly as he scrabbles on his hands and knees in an attempt to stand, but a paw smacks him in his ribs, claws ripping the sturdy fabric of his jacket and sending him sprawling to the left.

                The hit made him lose his grip on his weapon and he dives for it as the monster dives at him. He gets a hold of the handle milliseconds before the warped human being lands on him. He kicks his legs blindly as the man’s paws pin his shoulders down. _So much for getting the machete._ The werewolf bares his teeth and a deep growl rumbles in the back of his throat as he leans in close to Dean’s exposed neck. Dean stills, knowing that he’s either going to be devoured or he’s going to be turned. Can he be turned here? A yelp comes out of Dean’s chapped lips when claws break through his skin and blood begins oozing from his shoulders. He curses Benny for not helping him and opens his mouth to shout, but what comes out is closer to a whimper than a scream. And instead of Benny’s name, he cries for…

                “Cas, _please_!” his voice cracks from days of not being used.

                The snout of the werewolf twists into a toothy grin, fangs dripping with poison as it looms over Dean. The scene changes in an instant; the werewolf perks up, lifting his nose to sniff the air as though confused. He throws his head back and howls, long and slow and petrifying. The noise crawls down Dean’s spine and burrows under his skin.

                Then, the werewolf is off of Dean, galloping off into the spindly trees and being consumed by the shadows. A thump and hustling feet is the only warning Dean gets that Benny is coming until he is jerked up off the ground by big, strong hands. “You alright, brother?” Benny asks quickly assessing Dean’s wounds.

                “’m fine.” Dean groans, shaking off the vampire’s hands. “What happened? Where did it go?”

                Benny frowns, looking contemplative and troubled.

                “Spit it out.” Dean growls; he knows that Benny knows why the werewolf ran off.

                “Well, it seems your celestial friend has made himself known. I felt quite a bit of good mojo comin’ from that a’way.” Benny reluctantly replies, adding on, “In the opposite direction of the seam, mind you.”

                Dean stares off into the forest. Cas. “You sure it was Cas?” he asks.

                “Yep, nothin’ out here feels that clean.”

                “Then let’s go.” Dean begins walking towards the whispering woods.

                “Dean, if we take too long—“

                “I know!” Dean snaps, cutting Benny off. “The seam may close! I get it! But I’ll be damned if I leave Cas behind. Now, let’s. Go.”

                He hears a sigh before Benny is at his side. The outstretched claws of the trees engulf them as the wade further into purgatory and hopefully, closer to Cas.

               


End file.
